Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 1728. Young Man

"Henry." Hans sat against the wooden wall and asked Lan with difficulty and caution, "Your Excellency the Duke, will Henry be okay?"

The young Nasser nobleman now knew very well who he was facing.

After all, Lan En didn't have the fashionable magic cloak on him, so his figure and appearance were exposed here without any obstruction.

And he had just defeated a Nilfgaardian cavalry corps of more than 10,000 people in front of everyone.

The legendary [Hunter]
Before today, Hans never dared to imagine that he would have the opportunity to be so close to such a person!

In fact, Hans has complicated feelings about the character of Lord Hunter.

After all, Nasir is a province of Nilfgaard, so their official propaganda about Lann is of course a "devil", "executioner", "mutated cold-blooded mutant" and so on.

As a young Nasser noble who had agreed with Nilfgaard's rule just a few hours ago, he naturally followed the official propaganda of Nilfgaard.

But on the other hand, there is an unstoppable force! A violence that is enough to overwhelm the entire battlefield!

This is too dreamy for every young person, especially for young military aristocrats who have been taught to speak with force since childhood.

What's more, the other party is the Duke of Cintra recognized by law. This is too lethal among the nobles.

The desire for strength is the nature of living things.

"Him?" Lan took the potion from Triss. "Nothing will happen to him. You helped us remove the curse, so I will help you. But aren't you two a little too unlucky?"

The magic potion in the thumb-sized glass bottle flickered with an unnatural glow, and could be used for both external and internal application.

Henry had a wound that went from the skin on his back to the bone of his shoulder blade. After a few drops of magic potion were dripped, the blood stopped flowing out immediately.

This made Lan En raise his eyebrows slightly: Henry's efficiency in absorbing potions was much higher than that of ordinary people.

"Ah," Hans sighed in confusion, "Who says it's not?"

They first encountered a bad commander on the Eastern Front, and their troops were trapped in the city of Vergen. After being redeemed, they went to the Central Front according to their family's arrangement to gain some experience and military merit.

This time there is no bad commander. It is actually the Army Marshal, the highest commander of the entire war, who is directly commanding them!

Until a few hours ago, Hans thought that he would gain a lot from this trip to the battlefield.

After all, their commander was famous, well-known throughout the country, and he was indeed a great military genius. Then Lan En came.

There is nothing much to say after that.

This time he saw with his own eyes the legendary power that could dominate the battlefield.

Well, the legend is true.

As an enemy of such a character, he was indeed extremely unlucky.

But there were more than 50,000 people in the entire Nilfgaard military camp, and his most unfortunate thing was that he was transferred to the convoy guarding the bronze bell.

Lane slightly modified Henry's breastplate and put it back on him to serve as protection for his broken ribs.

It was visibly that his breathing was much smoother.

And that worrying psychedelic state was also fading away, turning into normal coma and sleep.

Hans's injury was less serious than his. His shield hand was broken in two, and the bone was dangling in the flesh, causing the muscles to become inflamed and swollen.

Lan also gave him a magic potion and fixed his arm.

"Relax, just chat. How old are you two?"

Lan asked casually while helping Hans fix his severed hand.

"I am sixteen, sir." Hans said stiffly, "Henry is the same age as me."

"Wow, young man." Lan En smiled.

Now he is truly qualified to call others young.

When he first came to this magical Middle Ages, he was in his early nineteens, but now, with the passage of time, he is almost twenty-four.

This does not take into account the chaotic and complex time relationship between the various worlds, but only counts the time of the magical Middle Ages.

However, given his current physical condition, the concept of age is no longer important.

When a person's natural lifespan is stretched to thousands of years, the numbers representing age sometimes make people too lazy to remember them.

Hans and Henry's ages are normal for military nobles to show up in public, and sixteen is the age when they can stand up for their family.

But in the eyes of the Embers Knights, the two of them were too young.

After all, Lincoln, the youngest member of the Knights Templar, was only about fourteen years old during the First Northern War, and is now approaching eighteen.

Lincoln was the youngest among the knights, and then it was the turn of the leader of the knights.

This was something that the Embers often used to tease Lan. Hans couldn't tell Lan's age. The demon hunter had a majestic yet graceful figure, which was not supposed to be found in young people, but he was full of vitality.

Lan's face made Hans avoid his gaze unconsciously several times. Something so beautiful that it was impossible to tell its age.

Finally, Lan dealt with Hans' arm.

The young military noble saluted according to etiquette.

"Thank you for your help, Your Excellency the Duke." Hans said awkwardly, "Pickstein and Lepper will never forget your kindness."

This is the wounded's thanks to the victor after the nobles surrender, saying that their territory will redeem them.

This was Hans’ second time being captured, but the person he faced in Vergen was not a noble, so this was the first time he had to go through the procedure.

However, after he said this, Lan, who had always been almost perfect in terms of etiquette and interpersonal relationships, looked at him with a strange look, which made Hans feel uneasy.

Funny, confusing, and pitiful?
"You actually thought you could ever return to Pickstein and Lepper, Sir Hans?"

Lan tied the last knot on Hans' arm and put his hand down and said.

"You are..." Hans didn't know why, but he felt his throat dry. "What do you mean?"

"You are a noble from Nasir, a hereditary noble recognized by the Nilfgaard Empire, Sir Hans." Lan En raised his thumb without turning his head and pointed in the direction behind him. "And you and your servants attacked the Empire's Army Marshal not long ago."

Behind Lan En were the prisoners in the convoy.

"Excuse me, Sir Hans. If your Pickstein and your uncle Hans in Lepe are still sensible, the best and mildest course of action would be to disown you and refuse to recognize your inheritance rights."

"In this way, perhaps Nasir, as a province directly under the jurisdiction of the Nilfgaard Empire, will not impose too severe punishment on your family."

".But it's hard to say."

Lan En waved his hand with a wicked smile at the unlucky guy in front of him, and made a big twist.

"How did the Nilfgaardians treat you in the decades after Nasir was incorporated into the Empire? How did they treat any conquered people during their expansion? The word tolerance is not common in Nilfgaard's history."

"Young Sir Hans."

Lan En didn't care about killing or burying. He shrugged and stood up, leaving Hans Capen, who was already pale and stunned, sitting against the tree stump wall.

By this time, the young hereditary noble had recovered.

Previously, when they were in the convoy guarding the cursed bronze bell, they were almost killed and used as consumables for ringing the bell, so they were so tense that they dared not relax for a moment.

Then, encouraged by Henry and faced with the contempt and murderous intent of the Nilfgaardian knights, he fought with them for the Nasir people's backbone, dignity, and his own life.

The blades and hammers hit the armor and shield. The surging adrenaline made him not even realize that his shield arm was broken, let alone think.

After the battle, he began to suffer the pain of his injuries on the way back, as well as worrying about the seriously injured Henry.

Until now, his mind finally had some free time from the continuous stimulation and pain, and his physical condition finally began to stabilize after receiving proper treatment.

Then, he could finally start thinking about the future and the future.

As Lan said: He thought he was a prisoner, but that was because he hadn't figured it out yet. In fact, the Northerners considered him a hero! A great hero who helped capture Menno Cuhoon!
But the problem is that his own fiefdom and family are in the south of Nilfgaard!
In biographies and stories, knights are always fearless and unrestrained, able to create their own stories with simple beliefs and clear ideas of right and wrong.

But in reality, the Cavaliers have too many things to take into account.

"I'm done, Henry."

Hans' body completely collapsed. He kicked his legs, leaned back against the tree stump wall, and looked up at the sky with empty eyes.

"My territory, my identity, my family. Gods, what have I done?"

He shook Henry's head, which was resting on his thigh, in vain and frantically, but unfortunately he could not wake up the unconscious servant.

His still intact hand pulled at his blond hair. But it didn't take long for Hans to adjust his mentality, sighed, and prepared to face the difficult and uncertain future.

He was a man with a good mentality, and his previous fight with the Nilfgaardian knights was mainly to save his life, so he didn't worry too much.

Looking back now, if he really had to sacrifice for the interests of his family in the empire, he believed that he would most likely accept it after making heavy psychological preparations.

After all, he had been educated as an armed noble since childhood.

But the Nilfgaardians said nothing. They were not prepared to let anyone know what was going on. He was not mentally prepared at all, so his first reaction was to resist directly!

All I can say is that for the same thing, if you handle it with different priorities, the results will be very different.

While the young hereditary noble was adjusting himself, Lan En turned around and stood in front of the captives.

The friendliness and smirk on his face disappeared, leaving only calmness.

"Hello, Marshal Menno Cuhoon."

"Hello to you too," the Imperial Marshal responded very respectfully, even though he was tied and sitting on the ground, "It's been a long time since we last met, Lord Hunter."

(End of this chapter)